


Thawed

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Random & Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 21,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3229172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of canon-verse drabbles, mostly focusing on Kristanna with a little Snow Sisters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"You’re all I’ve ever wanted."

The fever had caught them by surprise—one day everything had been fine, and then that night the chills had begun, the deep aching pain, the headache, the dizzyness. The doctor had been helpless, muttering that there was nothing to be done. ‘Let it burn itself out,’ he had said. But it had been two days and surely no human body was meant to burn so hot for so long. 

Anna rubbed at her stinging eyes and then went back to staring fixedly at Kristoff’s chest, watching it rise and fall as if only her willpower kept it moving. His lashes fluttered and she leaned forward, her hand tightening on his, but the brown eyes that stared up at the ceiling were glazed and dim. They passed over her without recognition and Anna felt a sob welling up in her throat. She swallowed hard, choking it down. No crying, she wasn’t going to cry. Crying was something you did when people died, and there was going to be no crying  _here_. 

Outside the world was cold and white—natural winter had come again, in its proper time. Snow spattered against the window panes, built up in high, muffling drifts on the sill, turned the sky grey and the ground white. Anna had feared the coming of winter, feared that it would bring nightmares and pain and memories. It did, but she had not expected the nightmares to be about fire. She had not expected the pain in her chest to be a squeezing fist of terror. She had not expected the memories to be of a summer full of visits in between ice harvests, of a big hand holding hers, shy fingers brushing her cheek, cautious and hesitant, of an autumn when those hesitant touches grew more confident, when lips that had touched hers tenderly began to claim her ever more fervently, and those big hands moved from holding her fingers to holding her waist, lifting her up to press her close…

No one had said anything to her, but she’d seen the doctor shake his head while Elsa questioned him, their voices hushed and urgent in the doorway. Gerda had stopped trying to coax her away to sleep properly in her own room, or to leave Kristoff’s bedside for meals. Instead they brought trays, which Anna barely touched, and took it in turns to hover nearby. During the night Elsa had come to sit beside her, stroking her hair while Anna pressed her face into the bedclothes and willed herself not to cry,  _not to cry,_ _he hates seeing you cry_. But there was still a kingdom to be run, and a castle to be managed, and for the moment Anna was alone with the sound of Kristoff’s labored breathing.

There was no one to object when she climbed onto the bed and curled up beside him, tucking her head into his shoulder. She wrapped one arm around his chest, feeling it move. 

"Please come back to me," she whispered. "Please. You…I need you. I thought I wanted some knight on a white horse, I spent all those years dreaming of my true love, and I got hung up on the details, on the horse and the poetry and the stupid, stupid title, and then I met you, and…I realized that nothing else matters. That reindeer are better than white horses, that poetry is overrated compared to the way you look at me, that…that all I’ve ever wanted is to be loved the way you love me. That you’re all I’ve ever wanted." A shudder shook her and she bit her lip hard to stop the stinging in her eyes. "Kristoff, come back to me," she begged, pressing her face into his nightshirt. "Please, Kris—" Her voice broke as another shudder wracked her, but then there was the brush of a hand on her back. 

"Anna." 

It was barely more than a sigh, but her head lifted at once and there were brown eyes looking at her, looking  _at_  her, thank God, and recognizing her. Anna lifted a shaky hand to smooth the sweat-damp hair back from his face. The fever had broken. She didn’t realize that tears were slipping down her cheeks until he reached out shakily to brush them away. 

"Shhh," he mumbled. “‘s okay, Anna. I’ll always come back for you. Always…" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Well that was unexpected."

 

When Anna screamed, Kristoff came out of the dressing room at a run, tripping over the boots that his wife had left on the floor and staggering in his hurry to get to her. Even after all these years he still got up with the sun, leaving Anna to roll over into the warm depression he left behind and continue snoring, but today she wasn’t snoring. She was kicking at the blankets and crying out, her sleep-mussed hair tossing as she shook her head frantically. Kristoff swore under his breath—it had been so long since this had happened, almost a year, and he should have known better than to hope the nightmares were gone for good.

"Anna!" He put one knee on the bed so that he could lean over her and grasp her shoulders, shaking her carefully. "Anna, it’s just a dream, wake up. You’re safe, you’re _safe_.”

Anna’s eyes flew open and she jerked up, smacking him in the nose with her forehead. He recoiled, wincing, but Anna was gripping his forearms and staring around, frightened tears running down her cheeks, and he ignored the pain in his face to focus on soothing her.

"Anna, it’s alri—"

“ _Legs_ ,” Anna gasped.

He gaped. “What?”

She blinked up at him, still panting and shaking slightly. “ _Legs_ ,” she said again. “It had so many  _legs_ , Kristoff! And it was chasing me, and it was so fast because it had so many  _legs_ , and it…it was full of…” Anna paused, rubbing her hand against her forehead and frowning. “I don’t remember. It was…full of dirty laundry?”

"What was?" Kristoff asked, bewildered.

"The  _suitcase_ ,” Anna said. “The one with all the  _legs_. And I couldn’t get away from it, and…”  She broke off because her husband had started to laugh. He tried to hold back the chuckle at first, he really did, but it came bubbling  out of his chest and soon he was bent over, Anna clutched against him as he shook with laughter. She poked at his ribs irritably. “It’s not  _funny_ ,” she huffed. “It was a very scary suitcase with…legs…” Kristoff sagged against the pillows, snorting helplessly. “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny,” Anna admitted. She poked him again. “You can stop laughing anytime, you know.”

Kristoff gasped for breath, wiped a hand across his streaming eyes, and grinned at her, his shoulders still shaking slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just…well, that was unexpected.” He reached out to smooth the tangled hair back from her face, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Oh, Anna,  _Anna_ —” Kristoff sat up and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her.

“ _What_?” Anna demanded, squirming as he nuzzled at her temple. “Kristoff, stop being weird.”

He leaned back a little and tilted her chin up. He was still grinning, and his eyes were still wet, although not entirely from laughter tears. “Anna, you had a bad dream, and it was about a  _suitcase with legs_.” His thumb stroked her jaw. “A  _suitcase_. And not…not….” He shrugged a little and hugged her close again. “Not something else,” he said finally.

"Oh." Anna relaxed against his bare chest as the meaning of his words finally began to sink in. " _Oh!_ ”

A nightmare that  _wasn’t_  about ice, or swords. A nightmare about something completely, ridiculously unbelievable. Kristoff pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Legs," he muttered, and laughed again with joy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Kristoff?"

He looked up from his ledger, rubbing wearily at his forehead as he struggled to focus on the small figure in the doorway. Kristoff had never learned to read, not properly—he knew numbers, and useful words, but there had been an awkwardness when Elsa realized that the records he kept as Ice Master, though meticulous, were written in runes. No one else in the city could read runes except for a handful of scholars. He found himself awkwardly submitting to reading lessons, and now he was giving himself the devil of a headache trying to translate his accounts.

"Anna? What are you—why are you in your nightdress?"

She shuffled her bare feet and plucked at the soft yellow fabric. “Because…because it’s nighttime?”

Kristoff rubbed a palm over his face, blinking hard. It was later than he’d realized, now that he was paying attention to details—the sky outside the window was dark, the candles were burning low, his back was aching and Anna was…not just in a nightdress, but her braids were mussed and half undone, her eyes reddened. And she was shivering, without her robe or slippers. He shoved his chair back hastily and went to her, rubbing her arms, her hands.

"You’re cold. What are you doing up? You should be sleeping."

"I was, I…" She bit her lip and looked down. "I had that dream again," she whispered. His fingers tightened around hers. She didn’t need to explain further than that. Anna took a shuddery little breath and went on in a rush. "I couldn’t go back to sleep, and I saw the light from your room, and the door was open, and I thought…I thought maybe…" She blushed, worrying at her lip again with her teeth.

"What?"

"Could I…could I sleep in your bed?"

“ _What_?”

A broken little giggle escaped Anna at his incredulous expression and her ducked her head. “I don’t mean…um…I just thought, if you’re still up, I could…just for a little bit! Not all night! I just…” She shrugged. “One time when you were gone I just…felt really lonely, and I didn’t want to bother Elsa because she never gets enough sleep, and so…I came in here and I was sitting on your bed, and it smelled like you, and…it made me feel safe, and I sort of fell asleep for a few hours. And…I didn’t have any bad dreams. It was nice,” she mumbled, blush darkening. “I’m sorry.”

Kristoff stared down at her. He remembered coming home, after a long, cold week without her, and thinking that he was imaging the smell of summer flowers on his pillow. He remembered how deeply and peacefully he’d slept, too, his dreams full of Anna. Anna laughing. Anna warm.  Anna safe. He bent to scoop her up in his arms—her feet were probably icy on the stone floor.

"Kristoff? What are you—" Anna broke off as he set her down on the bed.

"Here," he muttered, feeling his own blush heat his cheeks. "You can sleep here. As long as you want." He fumbled at the blanket, tucked it carefully around her. He bent to kiss her forehead, and her arms came up the curl around his neck.

"Thank you."

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and trying not to look too closely at the sight of Anna curling up around his pillow, nuzzling her face into the soft down. Kristoff sat back down at his desk, trying to work, but after a few minutes of staring blankly at the ledger a sleepy mumble interrupted him.

"Kristoff?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry, I just…wanted to hear your voice. I still…I don’t…"

Kristoff went back to her. She was in a tight little ball, holding the pillow in a white-knuckled grip. He ran his hand over the back of her head lightly, and she relaxed a little. “Are you still—”  _scared “—_ cold?”

"A little," she said. "I…it’s hard to get warm, after…I don’t feel good. My body sort of feels…wrong. But it’s better with you here," she said hastily, reaching out to touch his arm. "It’s a lot better."

He hesitated, but just for a moment. Then he climbed up onto the bed beside her, maneuvering until the shivering little lump under the blanket fitted into the curve of his body. He was fully dressed, there were the layers of bedding in between them, surely they could get away with this. Anna needed this. She was already relaxing as he wrapped his arm around her, his body heat leaching through the blanket and the sheet to warm her.

Anna wormed one arm out from under the coverlet to clasp his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice already soft with sleep. “I couldn’t stop remembering…how it felt.”

"It’s okay," he said quietly. The back of his throat felt rough, and he pulled her a little closer. "You’re safe." He was tired, more tired than he’d realized before he lay down, but he forced himself to stay awake, listening for the deep breathing and little snores that would mean Anna was asleep. But she was fighting sleep, too.

"I don’t want to remember. It…it helps when you hold me. Will you hold me until I forget? Please?"

"Anna," he murmured, shifting to kiss her hair. "I’ll hold you forever."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Anna…"

"Stop fidgeting, you look fine!" Anna smiled up at him, smoothing his lapels with her fingers. "You’re going to be great."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling itchy from the stiff collar. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

"Kristoff!" Anna tugged his hand down, holding it in both of hers. "Don’t worry. Just relax."

Kristoff shifted, rolled his shoulders awkwardly under the confining jacket, grimaced.

"Anna…" He glanced from her, looking perfect and polished every bit the princess, to his own reflection in the mirror. Once at a fair he’d seen a man with a pet animal, something called a monkey that had been captured from some far distant country. The little creature had been wearing a miniature coat and hat, and had done tricks. It had looked extremely miserable.

Kristoff felt like that monkey.

The clothes may have been tailored to fit him, but they didn’t fit the way he stood, the way he moved. He couldn’t swing his arms freely, or plant his feet the way he wanted, without something pinching or itching. There was nowhere for him to keep his knife. If he tried to climb a mountain in this, he’d probably die. But he wasn’t climbing a mountain, he reminded himself. He was doing something even harder. Kristoff looked at the door of the ballroom, where there was a loud hum of voices and the faint sound of music.

"I don’t belong here," he muttered.

"Kristoff…" Anna said quietly. He winced at the hurt in her voice. "I know it’s hard for you, that you don’t enjoy this kind of thing, but…"

"I don’t deserve to be here," he blurted. "I don’t deserve this—" his fingers fumbled awkwardly with the medal on his chest. "I don’t deserve this thing your sister is doing—"

“ _Knighting_  you. And you  _do_  deserve it.”

"I don’t. I don’t deserve anything. I don’t…I don’t deserve you."

He didn’t look at her. He stared down at his hands, rough and scarred, and no matter how skilled he was on the mountain he was somehow so clumsy  _here_ , trying to hold tiny, fragile glasses, tiny, elegant cutlery. Tiny, feisty princesses. Small hands slipped into his and squeezed.

"Kristoff.  _Kristoff_. You do deserve this. You deserve everything. You—” She stopped, and he glanced up to see her biting her lip. Then she pushed him back until he sat down in one of the stiff old stairs against the foyer wall, and plumped down on his lap.

"Anna, someone will—"

"I love you," she said, and leaned in to kiss him.

"Anna…"

She cupped his face in her hands. “You risked your life for me. That would warrant a knighthood on its own, you know. But you did more than that. You watched over me. You cared about me.” He lifted a hand to cover one of hers, pressing it to his cheek helplessly. Anna kissed him again. “You came back for me. No one ever came back for me before. And you…you’re  _good_. You’re kind.”

Kristoff snorted, and Anna thumped his chest lightly. “Hush, I’m giving a speech here. You can be grumpy  _and_  kind. And you’re brave, and strong, and loyal, and…and you have beautiful eyes.” He raised an eyebrow but Anna just nodded firmly. “I mean it. And a beautiful nose.” She moved in to kiss it lightly. “And you make me feel safe,” she said softly. “I know you hate these parties, and you don’t have to stay long, I just…I want everyone to see you. I want them to know who you are. I want everyone else to know how important you are. How worthy. I want them to see what I see. Including you,” she added.

"You’re probably overselling me a bit," he muttered, and Anna interrupted him by pressing her mouth to his for a long, lingering kiss.

"I am going to love you until you love yourself," she said, and cut off his protest with her lips. Her hands mussed his carefully combed back hair, rumpled his cravat, but Anna kissed thoroughly and with determination until a blushing footman cleared his throat.

"Ah…it’s time for the ceremony to begin, your highness. Um, if you would like me to ask them to delay—"

"No," Anna said. She swiped a hand over Kristoff’s hair, leaving it pushed back but still rather disheveled, and stood. "We’re ready now." She smiled up at Kristoff as he stood, swaying a little and feeling cross-eyed. She took his arm, steadying him.

"I love you," she said, as the doors to the ballroom were flung open. The entire assembly, therefore, got to see Kristoff pull her close and kiss her again. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Snow Sisters

"Elsa?"

"Mm?" The queen’s interrogative hum turned into a tsk of irritation as her sister hopped up to sit on the edge of the broad desk, skirts whisking several important documents out of their careful arrangement and onto the floor. She leaned down wearily to pick them up. "What is it, Anna? If this is about riding, I just don’t have time today—"

"No, I know, I just…" Anna was frowning, kicking her feet so that her heels tapped against the carved wood. Her hands twisted together in her lap. "I was wondering…That is, I was thinking…I mean…I just…"

"What?" Elsa prompted impatiently. "Anna, I really do have work to—"

"Do you ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?"

The words tumbled out in a rush, and Elsa sat still as if she’d been turned to stone. She couldn’t move. Instead she found herself staring with detached horror at her own hand, and at the thick layer of frost spreading out around it, creeping over the surface of the desk.

Anna was staring up at the ceiling, and didn’t see. “I mean,” she went on, “do you ever just…just wish you hadn’t been born?”

"Why?" Elsa’s voice was very quiet and hoarse, but flat. Anna sighed and twisted her hands in front of her again.

"Because I do. Sometimes. And I mean, is that normal? Do other people lie awake at night and worry about whether they make the world worse? I don’t…I don’t know who to else to talk to, I mean I don’t want to sound  _crazy_ , even though what if I am crazy? Is it crazy? To wonder, I mean. It’s not all the  _time_ , I just sometimes…”

"Anna,  _why_? Why would  _you_  think that?”

“ _Because_. Because…well, think about it. If I hadn’t been born, there wouldn’t have been an accident, because the accident was all my fault, and if it hadn’t happened you wouldn’t have been scared of your powers, and you wouldn’t have been shut up alone for so long. And the whole thing at the coronation would never have happened, because if I hadn’t been born I couldn’t try to get engaged like an idiot, and I wouldn’t have picked a fight, and no one would have tried to kill you…None of it would have happened. Except for me. And I just…sometimes if I think about it too much I wonder if it would have been better that way.”

A burst of warmth burned in Elsa’s chest and she got up, ignoring the documents that were wrinkiling and running in the sudden puddle as she wrapped her arms around her little sister.

"No," she said firmly. "It would  _not_  have been better.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

Kristoff shifted irritably against the pillows, wincing at the throb of pain from his leg. He glared at the swathes of bandages and splinting. Any other time of the year, he would have been glad of an excuse to avoid yet another royal ball. Probably he’d have preferred a less drastic excuse, but still, there would have been a twinge of gratitude at the thought of escaping an evening full of tedious conversation and awkward dances and dodging that one countess who always wanted to grab his backside after her third drink. Any other time of year he would have counted a broken leg among his blessings.

But it wasn’t just any time of year. It was  _Christmas_. Anna had been counting down the days for weeks. She’d been humming carols, and hanging garland, and furtively hoarding presents under the bed, and sneaking sprigs of mistletoe everywhere she could reach. The onslaught of winter had made her turn pale. It brought back the nightmares that had haunted her during those first few weeks after the Thaw, and no matter how bravely she smiled there had been a shadow in her eyes. It had been wiped out, however, by the sparkle of delight over Christmas. She’d been glowing with Christmas, overflowing with it. Kristoff had never cared much—the trolls didn’t celebrate Christmas, and his memories from childhood were just a hazy blur, really. But he cared about seeing Anna smile. She was probably smiling downstairs right now, and he was  _missing_  it.

The door swung open and there was swish of skirts. “Anna?”

"I brought chocolates!" she announced, lifting a silver tray and grinning at him. "I didn’t even eat any on the way up here. Not more than one, anyway. Or two, at the most. And I didn’t drop them! But I let Gerda bring the hot cocoa." The elderly maid bustled in after the princess, her own tray bearing two mugs and a steaming pot. She set it down on the bedside table, and then briskly ordered Kristoff to sit up while she pile cushions behind him. Anna watched anxiously. "Does your leg hurt?"

"Don’t worry about it," he muttered, trying to flip the blanket over his leg. Gerda smacked his hand and pulled the blanket away so that she could look it over critically.

"It’ll do," she declared, and then she was bustling out again.

"Anna, what are you doing up here? Why aren’t you at the party?"

She shrugged. “I put in an appearance. I wanted to show you my dress.” She twirled, making the green velvet skirt billow around her. It was embroidered with red and gold flowers that glittered. “Do you like it?”

"Beautiful," he murmured, leaning back against the pillows. Anna blushed, and twisted her fingers awkwardly around one of the ringlets trailing over her shoulder for a moment.

"Oh! The cocoa!" She went to fill the mugs—in private, Kristoff and Anna both got sturdy mugs, instead of dainty china. He accepted his mug gratefully.

"Thank you. But Anna, you shouldn’t be up here—you’ve been waiting for this party for months. You should go back downstairs."

"Nope. Not without you. Hold this, please." She handed him the second mug, then she climbed up onto the bed beside him, hauling her skirts up with her so that she was sitting in a puff of lace-edged petticoats. Once she was situated, Anna took her mug back and settled her head onto his shoulder.

"But—" he was already leaning his cheek against her soft hair as he protested weakly. "Anna, it’s Christmas."

"I know! That’s why I want to spend it with you. And Elsa, of course, but she can’t leave the party yet. She’ill come up later, and she promises to bring some of the bread pudding." She snuggled closer to him. She smelled like chocolate, and oranges, and cinnamon. "Happy Christmas, Kristoff."

He turned his head to press his lips to her hair. “Happy Christmas.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon-divergent/alternate ending, Kristanna

The blizzard had come up suddenly, like magic, and he knew. He knew something was wrong. The wind howled, nearly pulling him from Sven’s back, and the blowing ice stung his face, but nothing could push him off course. When they reached the castle, the reindeer lowered his head and used his antlers to ram through the doors. Kristoff jumped down, ignoring the people rushing here and there in panic except to grab the arm of one man.

"The princess, where is she?"

He found Anna alone in a dark room. He had to break down the door to get to her. She was curled up, so small and pale that he thought for a moment that she was already gone. Then her eyes opened and she looked at him. Blue lips did their best to smile.

"You f-f-forgot your h-hat," she mumbled as he knelt to scoop her up. He held her close, even though at this point he wasn’t much warmer than she was.

"What happened? Where’s—"

Her head dropped wearily against him. “He—h-he left. It wasn’t t-t-true love. S-sorry. “

Kristoff swore, setting her down so that he could light the fire. She kept shivering even when he helped her sit close to the flames, chafing her hands in his. Her fingertips were blue, white curls of frost spreading over her skin like flowers. He tried to rub them away.

"There has to be something," he muttered. "There has to be a way."

"No," she said. "He was r-right. There’s n-nobody…" Anna closed her eyes as a shudder ran through her body. "You don’t have to s-stay."

"What?"

"Y-you don’t-t have to s-stay. You d-don’t have to w-watch." Her voice was getting thin, her breathing shallow and labored. "It’s okay," she whispered. Outside the wind shrieked—no, the wind had stopped. It had stopped dead. The shriek had been a human cry. Anna gasped in response. "Elsa—n-no—" Tears filled her eyes but they turned to pearls of ice as they touched her cheeks. She looked up into his face, and icy fingertips brushed his cheek. "S-sorry. So s-sorry…."

"You don’t have anything to be sorry for," he said roughly. His arms tightened around her as he remembered the first time he’d seen her, so out of place in the rustic trading post. How determined and nervous she’d looked, demanding to be taken up the mountain. The way she’d cuddled up next to him for warmth when they’d stopped to rest, falling asleep with her head on his shoulder and snoring into his ear. Anna, attempting to climb a cliff. Anna, laughing as she ran through the snow. Anna, who was so brave, and so scared. 

"You d-don’t have to s-stay," she whispered again. Kristoff shook his head, shifting her so that she was cradled against his chest. 

"I’m not leaving you." He felt his own heart ache as if it was being crushed, and his pressed his lips to her white hair. "I’ll never leave you again." He kissed her forehead, kissed the icy tears on her cheek. A faint, cool breath brushed over his lips before he pressed his mouth to hers. At first her lips were cold and unresponsive against his, then he felt he shift, pressing closer, felt her lips warm a little at his touch, felt them part as if to draw in his heat. Her stiff, curled body began to unfurl like a flower, arms twining around him, small fingers burying themselves in his hair. Finally they drew back for air, and as he opened his eyes he breathed in sharply. 

Anna was flushed, her lips pink and her eyes bright. The braids shining against her shoulders were red again, and the hand she laid on his cheek was warm. 

"Kristoff," she whispered. 

"Anna, what—how—" He cupped her face in shaking hands. She smiled up at him. 

"True love’s kiss," she whispered, laying one of her hands over his heart. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

He kept lifting her hand to his lips, kept running his thumb over the band of gold that formed an endless, eternal circle around her finger. Kristoff hadn’t really expected this evening to mean so much. Well, he’d expected it to mean  _something_ , of course, but secretly he’d thought of it as something that was mostly just for Anna, and for the court. He’d been dreading the suit and the cathedral full of watching eyes and the dancing. As far as he was concerned, their real wedding had been the night before. They’d been surrounded by his family, plus a slightly nervous Elsa, and in the light of hundreds of glowing crystals Anna had promised to be his forever. He knew that hidden underneath her elegant gown tonight there was a crystal pendant, a twin to the one concealed by his waistcoat. His pendant was a faint warmth against his chest, a gentle pulse that he knew was Anna’s heartbeat. He’d been able to feel it racing as she walked up the cathedral aisle to him.

He hadn’t expected his own heart to pound so much. It had taken two tries to get the ring onto her finger, because his hands were shaking. The immense crowd had faded away completely, and all he was aware of was Anna. Even now, in the ballroom with noise and people surrounding them, he could barely take his eyes off of her.

"I love you," he murmured. He didn’t think she would hear, over the music and the chatter, but she looked up at him and smiled.

"I love you too," she said, reaching out for his other hand, her fingertip brushing over the ring he wore. "Forever."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

Anna barely made it through the door of the cabin before Kristoff was wrapping a blanket around her, guiding her to sit in the only chair, wrapping another blanket around her legs. She watched in baffled amusement as he quickly built up the fire, scooted her closer to it, then began heating water for tea.

"Or cocoa, do you want cocoa? I could make cocoa. And there’s chocolates in the hamper—the hamper’s on the sled. I’ll be right back."

"Can I help—"

"No, no, you stay put. Just be comfortable. Are you comfortable? I should have brought a cushion for the chair…"

"Kristoff, it’s fine, I’m comfortable, but do you need—"

"No, it’s fine, I’ll just be a second."

She looked around the snug little room while he was gone—bed in a nook to one side of the fireplace, shelves holding supplies, gear hung on one wall. Nothing decorative except for the row of colored crystals on the mantle, but neat and cozy. The door let in a little gust of wind as Kristoff came back, loaded like a pack mule with bundles in addition to the hamper.

"I brought some things, to make you more comfortable, there’s a pillow, one with feathers, and some sheets, and—" The kettle whistled and he set down his burdens so that he could hurry over to it, even though Anna was starting to stand. "Tea?" he asked. "Or cocoa?" Anna had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from laughing as he distractedly put in both. He realized what he’d done and stared at the mug in horror.

"Kristoff," Anna said, the laughter bubbling up in her voice. He dropped his head into his hands with a groan as she moved to kneel on the hearth next to him.

"I just—I know it isn’t much, there isn’t much here, I mean—I never needed—and there was never anyone else here, but…I just wanted you to…like it. I didn’t want you to spend your whole time here wanting to go home." He sighed and Anna wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“ _Kristoff_. I’ve got everything I want. I don’t want to go anywhere.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"I’m coming! Just sit tight."

"Anna—"

"Just hang on!"

Kristoff rested his forehead against the rough stone of the cliff. His fingerhold was shallow, the rock brittle and crumbling under his toes. The mountain was dangerous, and he knew it. He had always known that one day it might claim him. He just wished that Anna wasn’t there to see it.

"Anna, don’t get too close to the edge! Stay where you are, it’s not safe!"

"I have the rope, if I can just—"

"Anna…" He knew his own strength. He knew he didn’t have long. "Anna, listen to me. I want you to know something."

"Just hang on—"

“ _Listen_.” The rock under his fingers shifted a little. His other hand scrabbled fruitlessly for another grip, find a slight unevenness and clung. Just a few seconds, he just needed a few more…. “Anna, I love you.”

"Kristoff—"

"I’ve known it for—for ages, but I never said—" He couldn’t move to look up at her. He wished he could see her face one more time. Kristoff closed his eyes, picturing her smile, her sprinkle of sweet freckles, the vivid cascade of her hair. "I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you, Anna. I want you to remember that. Whatever happens, just—just remember."

The stone under his hand broke free, and for a moment he hung in the air, time suspended as he felt himself slip, even as rope coiled down toward him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Look at me—just breathe, okay?"

Anna tried to wipe at the troll child’s nose, which was running with a liberal amount of slimy green mucus (that glowed slightly—why did it glow? Was that bad? Should she know? Human children didn’t ever glow. Or did they? She didn’t remember ever glowing herself, but until last year she hadn’t remembered her sister having ice powers). The little troll just kept squalling, and squirming, fighting to get out of her grip.

"Look—" Anna tried again.

"WANT—"

"Listen, just—"

"WANT—"

“ _Please_ —”

"MAMAAAAAA!!!!!!"

Hard, flailing little fists pounded at Anna’s stomach, driving all the air out of her, and the piercing shriek drew the attention of everyone in the valley just in time for all of them to see Anna double over, wheezing and dropping the baby. He tumbled to the ground, still wailing even as he rolled into a little boulder and bounced a few feet away. Anna gasped, sucking in a deep breath, and looked up to find dozens of big, round eyes staring at her in silence. Her face burned. She couldn’t bring herself to look over at Kristoff, who had frozen in mid-tussle with the older troll children.

"I—sorry, I’m  _so_  sorry, I—”

One of the older trolls hurried over and picked up the little rock baby, bouncing it soothingly. The screams softened almost at once. “There, there,” he said, “hush, little one.”

"I’m sorry," Anna said miserably. "I didn’t mean to—I just—"

"Of course, dear, don’t worry, he’s just fractious because his first moss hasn’t grown in yet. Really we shouldn’t have asked you to watch him at all, little ones are a terrible handful when you aren’t experienced." Anna bit her lip, and the troll patted her hand. "I’ll just take him back and keep him with me for a while, no harm done." He ambled away, a pair of accusing little eyes peering back over his shoulder.

Anna stood awkwardly twisting her hands for a moment, her shoulders hunching. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kristoff start to get up, and she hastily turned on her heel. “I’lljustgocheckonSven!” she gasped, all in one breath, and darted away.

Sven was sleeping contentedly, half a carrot dangling from his mouth and twitching occasionally as he wuffled and snored in his sleep. Anna tip-toed past him to the far side of the sled. It had been left just on the edge of the border where the snowy ground gave way to the warmer air of the magical valley, and her boots crunched on the snow as she put the painted wood between her and the path. She sagged against the side of the sled, then sank down to sit in the snow, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her face in her arms.

"Anna?"

“‘m fine,” she mumbled. “Just going to sit out here for a bit.”

"Anna, you can’t sit in the snow like that."

"I’m really, really fine," she said, lifting her head just enough to stare off into the distance, biting her lip hard. "Totally okay. Just leave me alone for a bit."

He sat down next to her with a grunt, and she tried not to let him feel her shivering. Tried not to lean into his warmth and burst into tears on his shoulder.

"No one wants to be alone, remember?" he said. Kristoff reached out to brush a loose, disheveled lock of hair from her face and Anna ducked down to hide in her crossed arms again. She grumbled under her breath and he paused with his hand on her back. "Wait, what?"

"Maybe I deserve to be alone," Anna said. "Maybe—"

"Anna—"

"I dropped him! I dropped a  _baby_!”

"Anna, it was an accident."

"So? It was an accident when Elsa hit me with her powers. Both times Elsa hit me with her powers, it was an accident. And I still almost—almost died."

He was quiet for a minute, his hand rubbing slow circles against her spine. “Anna…I know that accidents can be deadly. I do know that. Accidents on the ice often  _are_  deadly. But this wasn’t. He’s fine—troll babies tumble all the time. They’re used to it.”

"But what if he wasn’t a troll baby?" she snapped. "What if he’d been a human baby? Human babies don’t tumble. They don’t  _bounce_. If I dropped a human baby—”

"Anna, you  _didn’t_ —”

"But what if I did?"

"You won’t."

"You don’t know that! I drop things all the time! I fall over things! I trip, and I lose my balance, and I run into stuff and—"

"Anna. Stop."

"I’m too clumsy," she muttered, and hugged her arms around herself, resting her forehead on her knees. "I can’t be trusted with babies."

"You are not  _that_  clumsy,” Kristoff said firmly. “Sometimes you get excited and you don’t pay attention to where you’re going, but—”

"Kristoff, yesterday I tripped over my own feet!"

"Because you were trying to dance and walk at the same time. Anna, it’s okay."

"I’d never held a baby before," she whispered.

"What?"

"I never held a baby—it’s not like there are a bunch of babies in the castle.  I’d never even seen a baby up close, until the gates were open and I met people with babies out in the town, but no one ever asked me to hold one. And…and I dropped him. And he didn’t—" she trailed off, and Kristoff moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Didn’t what?" he asked.

"He didn’t  _like_  me. I thought I’d be good with babies,” Anna said, bewildered frustration filling her voice. “I thought I’d just…I thought I’d just know what to do. That I’d be a natural. But I’m not. I’m horrible and awful and babies  _hate_  me.”

"Anna, not all babies hate you. Sometimes babies just want their parents and they won’t be happy with anyone else. And this was  _one_  baby.”

"But what if it’s me? What if I really am terrible with babies? What am I going to do? How can I—" She stopped, blushing.

"How can you….?"

"How can I be a good mother?" Anna said softly. "If I can’t take care of a baby for one hour—"

"Oh." Suddenly his arms were wrapped around her and she was tugged up and into his lap, cradled close to him. "Anna. You would be an amazing mother. Will be an amazing mother. And your babies will love you."

"What if they don’t?" she whispered, voice muffled against his chest. He stroked a hand over her hair.

"They will," he promised.

"What if I can’t take care of them?"

"Anna, if you’ve never been around babies before, of course you don’t know what to do right away. But you’ll be able to learn. And you won’t be taking care of them alone, there will be lots of people to help you. There will be Elsa, and Gerda, and…and…" He trialed off, and Anna peeked up to see him blushing and looking away from her.

"And you?" She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Will you help me take care of our babies?"

He bent his head to kiss her warmly, and it was all the answer she needed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Kristoff! Where are you?"

The wind whipped around her, tearing the words away, turning the world into a swirl of blinding whiteness and cold. Kristoff. She had to get to Kristoff, and everything would be fine.

“ _Kristoff!_ ”

Anna stumbled forward, trying to walk with legs that felt to stiff and heavy to move. She couldn’t remember what had happened, didn’t understand why she was back here— _it had been over, she had been safe, she had been warm_ —all she knew was that she needed Kristoff. But she couldn’t find him. The heavy gusts shoved her back and forth, stinging her with sharp bits of hail, and she tried to cry out again but she couldn’t seem to get enough air, her lungs were constricting, freezing—

"Anna!"

She choked, coughing, spitting up cold water.

"Get her inside, we have to get her warm."

"Sir, are you—"

"I’m fine, don’t worry about me."

His voice.

"Kristoff," she mumbled weakly. Her throat felt raw, and her chest hurt. She was so cold. It was too hard to open her eyes, but she felt a cold hand touch her face before strong arms hoisted her up.

"It’s okay, Anna. You fell through the ice, but you’re going to be fine. Just stay awake. Stay with me."

"Found you," she tried to say. "Everything…fine now. With you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-film, Bulda and young Kristoff

The other trolls sometimes call her the Collector, teasing gently about her ‘collection’ each time an orphaned squirrel or wounded bird showed up in the valley, requiring Bulda’s tender care. But she didn’t mind—they brought her herbs and clean straw for bedding and asked after her patients, celebrating each time a healed animal left for its home or offering sympathetic hugs when there was nothing left to do but make the creatures comfortable and wait.

Bulda never went  _looking_  for hurt animals (the walks she took were purely for pleasure, of course). Creatures that needed her love just seemed to find her _._

Granted, the human boy had been a surprise, but Bulda never questioned the gifts that fate sent to her. Things might have been more complicated on another night, but it clearly  _was_ an act of fate that the boy arrived when he did, when the uproar of other visitors had the full attention of the rest of the valley. By the time the royal family had departed it was too late for anyone to object, if they had wanted too. The boy and his reindeer were curled up in the cave that served as Bulda’s infirmary, and it was clear that he was staying. Bulda thought that no one had ever so clearly needed her love before.

Ice had brought the boy to her, and apart from his reindeer ice seemed to be the only thing that the boy cared about. It was a puzzle to Bulda—he was a sweet child, a loving child, but all that love was dammed up in him as if he were afraid of giving it away. He gave it to Sven, because he seemed to think Sven was safe, and slowly, very slowly, he gave some of it to Bulda and to the other trolls, but most of all he gave it to ice.

He didn’t like to talk much, and he didn’t talk about the past at all, but he would talk to her about ice. She finally asked one day, why? Why ice? What made it special to him?

"It’s always there," he said. "There’s always ice. Every year the winter comes, and there’s ice. And even when everything else melts, if you go high enough on the mountain there’s always going to be ice. The ice never vanishes. It never leaves."

It was the longest speech she’d ever coaxed from him, and it seemed to use up his store of words for the time being, except for a flat “ _No_ " when she asked if he wanted her to help him find a human family. She didn’t  _want_  to give him up, but she asked periodically, just in case. But humans, it seemed, were less reliable than reindeer, less reliable than ice.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-film, Snow Sisters

"Elsa.  _Elsa_.” Sharp fingers prodded her in the ribs. “Elsaaaaaaa, wake  _up_.”

She grumbled, turning under her quilt to escape the poking fingers and the hissing whisper in her ear. “G’way.”

"No! You have to wake up! It’s my  _birthday_!”

"Huh?" She sat up quickly, dislodging Anna from her back and making her roll across the bed, giggling. Elsa looked around, wondering how she could have been sleeping, how she could have _missed_  it, she had planned so carefully the way she had been going to surprise her sister in the morning—she had gotten permission from Mama, who had agreed that cake for breakfast was acceptable  _sometimes_ , and had had a very grown up conversation with the cook explaining what she wanted, and made arrangements with Kai, just the way that Mama did when  _she_  was planning something special, and now she’d  _missed_  it…

Except as she blinked the sleep from her eyes, Elsa realized that her room was still dark, and the castle was silent. There was no bustle of feet or tuneless whistle as the maid went from room to room lighting fires, no sound of bells greeting the day from the church in the town, no birdsong at the window. There was just Anna, grinning at her in the moonlight and bouncing excitedly on the counterpane.

"Anna, what are you doing up? It’s not your birthday, it’s the middle of the night."

Her sister’s soft round face drew into a pout. “No! It’s my birthday! I waited and  _waited_  and now I’m five!” She held up a pudgy hand to demonstrate, fingers outspread. “Five!”

"Anna, it’s not your birthday until  _morning_.” Elsa scooted out from under her covers. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

"I couldn’t sleep! I had to watch the man in the clock!"

"Wait, who?"

Anna slithered down from the bed and dashed across the room to the fireplace. A chair had already been pushed close to it, and she scrambled up to point at the clock on the mantle. “The man with the hands! See? Just like you showed me! When the hands are together at the top, and it’s dark outside, then it’s a new day! You  _said_ , remember?”

"You didn’t look like you were listening," Elsa mumbled, trying not to smile. Mama had told her that she had to practice—’ _One day you’ll be queen. It’s a big responsibility. It’s like being a big sister, but to the whole kingdom. So you have to practice being responsible with Anna, to be the very best big sister. Can you do that?’_  She had promised she would, and being responsible probably meant not laughing at the memory of the way her sister had interrupted their lesson on telling time. It had involved mud. The smile tugged harder at her lips and Elsa hid it behind her hand.

"I always listen to you!" Anna said, plopping down in the chair. " _Always_. And now it’s my _birthday_!”

Elsa grinned, taking her hand away from her mouth so she could hold out her arms. “Well, happy birthday—oof!” She staggered as Anna barreled into her, trying to hug her and bounce up and down again at the same time.

"It’s my birthday! We have to play!"

"Anna, Anna! You have to go to sleep, or you’ll be tired in the morning, and you don’t want to be tired for your party, do you?"

Blue eyes lit up at the thought of the party—there was going to be a boat ride, and games in the garden, and  _fireworks_ —”But I  _can’t_ sleep!” Anna scrunched her shoulders, her little fists pressed to her cheeks anxiously. “I can’t, I can’t! My heart is all fluttery!”

"Here." Elsa pulled her sister to her own bed and climbed in beside her, tucking her in carefully. "Lie still and quiet, and you’ll go to sleep. And when you wake up, it will be almost time for the party, okay?"

"Okay." Anna lay as stiff as a board, staring fixedly at the ceiling, forehead creasing as she willed herself to sleep. Elsa shook her head.

"Here," she whispered, lifting a hand. She wasn’t supposed to do things without permission—it was part of being responsible—but just this once….

A little swirl of sparkling crystals formed in the air, twirling gently over Anna’s head and glittering in the moonlight. A few icicles grew from it, tinkling very gently like a windchime and turning around and around like the mobile that had hung over Anna’s crib.

“‘s  _beaut’ful_ ,” Anna mumbled, her eyelids drooping as she relaxed.

"Happy birthday," Elsa whispered as her sister fell asleep. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Snow Sisters
> 
> inspired by actual events involving my own ridiculous sister

There was a rustle at the door, and Elsa looked up to see a wad of folded paper inching its way through the crack at the bottom of the door. She sighed and went to pick it up. 

'I think you have the prettiest sister in the world!' it read read. 

Another folded piece of paper bumped her foot as it was shoved into the room. This one read ‘She is so nice and fun to be with!’

"Anna," the queen said firmly to the door. "Anna, you know that I would rather be with you, but this treaty  _must_  be read very carefully, and I need to concentrate—”

A third note. ‘Your sister is SO BORED.’

“ _Anna_. I have to work.  _Someone_  around here has to work.”

A fourth note. ‘I’m not Anna, I am a poltergeese.’

Elsa yanked the door open, but the only thing in the hallway was the echo of running feet and a breathless giggle as her sister skittered around the corner. “It’s  _geist_ , Anna! Polter _geist!_ ”

The only answer was a distant sound of honking. 

* * *

Elsa got about half an hour of peace and quiet before the door of her study burst open, making her jump and very nearly leading to a crucial paragraph vanishing under a spill of ink—she froze the ink pot just in time as it tipped, and swung around to face the door. 

“ _Anna_  what do you think you’re— _what are you wearing_?”

Anna stepped over the threshold, swathed from head to foot in an enormous coat. It has braiding. It had shiny buttons. It had fringed epaulets. It had…sequins. And it was  _pink_.

Very, very pink. 

Apparently at some point in the castle’s history, it had contained a very large, pink man. Her sister was practically swimming inside the coat—the touched the ground, forcing Anna to do a waddling shuffle. 

"I found it," Anna said, her eyes glowing in a suspiciously serious face, "in the attic."

Elsa carefully controlled her own expression. “Really? How…interesting. I think that from the cut of it it must be from our grandfather’s time. I wonder who it can have belonged to?”

"Someone  _dashing_ ,” Anna said, waggling her eyebrows. “I feel so…so… _handsome._ " She attempted to put her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest, and shuffled swaggeringly over to the desk, leaning against it. "Hel _lo,_  ladies,” she said in a deep voice. 

"Oh, hello," Elsa said, holding out a hand. " _So_  charmed.”

Anna grasped her hand through the sleeve of the coat, at about the point where the intended wearer’s elbow should have been, and bowed over it. “The pleasure is aaaaall miiiiine,” she drawled nasally. “Tell me, what is a lovely lady like you doing cooped up in a castle like this?”

“ _Trying_  to negotiate profitable trade relations,” Elsa said primly. “What brings  _you_  here?”

"I’m here for the  _ladies_ ,” Anna said, holding one of her braids over her lip like a mustache and twirling the end of it. 

Elsa poked the billowing stomach of the coat. “And the chocolate, maybe?”

"Chocolate? Where??" Anna turned too quickly and tripped over the hem of the coat. Elsa tried to catch her, but only went down with her in a sprawling mess of skirts, fluttering papers, and pink velvet. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Gerda, Kristanna

Gerda paused, dust cloth dangling from her hand, and looked around. Really it wasn’t her place to do the actual  _dusting_ —it was her place to  _supervise_  the dusting done by lesser members of the staff—but she wasn’t so proud of her position that she let it get in the way of her perfectionism. Especially not when the princess was coming home after a month, a  _month_ , in the mountains. Gerda didn’t understand why it was important for the princess to occasionally go live in the mountains, but it wasn’t her place to question, no more than it was her place to dust. What mattered was that the princess and her family were coming home, and the room needed to be perfect and warm and welcoming and  _absolutely_  free from dust. And if she paused to glance around the room that she had seen tidied and dusted and made comfortable for so many years, and if the thought of it made her eyes water, well, that was probably just the dust, and there was no one to see.

The room had changed so much, over the years. Two beds had become one bed, for a start. And then the collection of sweet little frocks had become a wardrobe bursting with the long dresses of a young lady. The chest of toys had finally been put aside in the abandoned playroom, making a space for a grown-up vanity. But those had been long, slow, and very minor changes. The princess’ marriage had brought changes that were much more notable.

 Five years of marriage had changed many things. It had changed the bedroom, significantly—there was a carefully negotiated division between Sir Kristoff’s neatly organized corner of the dressing room and Princess Anna’s rather  _less_  organized everything-else-of-the-dressing room. The bed, thanks to Sir Kristoff’s bulk, tended to become molded to the shape of their two bodies instead of one, and the layer of down needed to be shaken out more often to smooth the noticeable dent. The walls had changed as well, eventually, recovered in a handsome blue patterned with green instead of being overwhelmingly pink. Gerda thought that the new paper was quite tasteful, but she had, when no one was looking, peeled away and kept for herself a bit of the old paper, where a very young princess had once painted a self portrait when left unsupervised. With the new paper had come new furniture, with the addition a bassinet in the corner (not in use at the moment, but no one had bothered to put it away when the baby became a toddler and transitioned to her own little bed in the nursery) and plush, comfortable chair that rocked gently. Even the smell in the room had changed, so that it was the intermingled scents of roses (Princess Anna’s perfume) and pine (Sir Kristoff’s rather dreadful soap) that lingered in the air and on the pillows (when they weren’t properly aired).

There had even been noticeable changes in the room’s occupants. There were soft, plump curves on Princess Anna’s body (pregnancy had finally helped put some meat on the girl’s bones, Gerda had been satisfied to see), and she thought an answering softness was beginning to develop on Sir Kristoff’s belly. There were new scars on both of them—a ragged line on Sir Kristoff’s back from some misfortune with the ice harvest, that she’d helped tend to, and the pale lines over Princess Anna’s hips that were the scars of bearing a child, not to mention the long line on the princess’ arm, left after she’s learned the hard way that potatoes were peeled with the knife cutting  _away_. There more subtle changes, too, changes in the way they spoke, in their gestures—Gerda had caught the ice master absent mindedly mimicking his wife’s anxious way of twisting her hands when he was lost in thought, and the princess, well. She certainly hadn’t learned all of the words in her vocabulary from her tutor, Gerda was certain of that. But she had also become calmer, more…centered, in some way. And he had certainly become less abrupt and irritable and more…well, not friendlier, but less inclined to stare at the guests like a panicked animal during balls, and he smelled less, which was something.

Five years had changed them from two people alone into two people hopelessly intertwined and tangled up in each other. Three people, really, Gerda thought, as she heard a shout from the courtyard below. All the way up here, and she could still hear the little princess’ voice as clear as day, it was that loud, as loud as her mother’s had ever been. The old maid wiped surreptitiously at her eyes, giving the room one last look over—fire in the grate, bed aired and plumped, hot water at the ready and fresh towels, everything neat and tidy—and then she let herself out of that bedroom, and went to check just one more time on the other bedroom, down the hall, where the walls were (for now) yellow and decorated with a crude pencil drawing of a reindeer, and where (for now) there was a wardrobe of sweet little frocks, and a chest full of toys, and the promise of a whole future of changes that Gerda hoped she would be blessed enough to see.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

Kristoff was dreaming. He hadn’t been prone to dreams before—when you worked hard with your hands, you generally fell into bed with aching muscles and dropped into a sleep too deep to remember dreams. But now he lived in a castle, part of the time, and wearing uncomfortable clothes and making awkward conversation didn’t exhaust his body the way it was used to, it only exhausted his patience. So he tossed and turned in the too-soft bed until he tumbled into uneasy dreams.

 

Tonight it was wolves. Wolves, tearing and clawing and howling around them, too many for him to fight off. The sled tipped, tumbling them out onto the snow, Sven bellowing as he tangled in the harness. Kristoff tried to reach him, to cut him free, but there was a scream behind him. A wolf had Anna’s cloak in its jaws, using it to drag her away from the burning sled, pulling her into the darkness of the trees. She struggled to undo the clasp but it was choking her, cutting of her cries. Sven thrashed as another wolf lunged at him, and Kristoff knew he could reach them both, knew he couldn’t reach either of them, but he had to try—as his feet moved a heavy weight hit his back, knocking him to the ground, claws tearing at his shoulder and hot breath on his neck the moment before the jaws closed….

…Kristoff struck out against the weight on him with all his strength, sitting up with a shout, but the woods were gone. There was no snow, no burning sled, no wolves. Just him, in his strange new bed, and a muffled ‘ow’ from the floor. He blinked, scrubbing a hand across his face, his heart still pounding in his ears. “Anna,” he mumbled. Then he looked around. The door was open, and a candle burned on his nightstand, the extra candlestick standing beside the candle that he had blown out before going to sleep. “Anna? Anna!”

She was on the floor beside the bed, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling, her nightdress and robe tangled around her legs. “Ow,” she said again.

"Oh, gods, Anna, what—" He was out of the bed and kneeling beside her in a moment, fingertips brushing her face, her arms. She tried to sit up and he had to catch her as she wobbled.

“ _Ow_. Sorry. You were shouting—I tried to wake you up but I guess that was a bad idea.”

He remembered the weight on him, remembered shoving hard—and then he saw the bruise forming on Anna’s shoulder, where the collar of her nightdress was tugged down. “Oh Anna, I didn’t—”

"I’m fine, really, I just—I think I banged my head—" She reached behind her, prodding beneath the hair and wincing.

Kristoff lifted her carefully, setting her down on the edge of the bed and peering anxiously into her face, looking at her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, cupping her face. “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry, I—I’m sorry.”  He kissed temple carefully, as if she might break.

"I’m okay, really—I’ve banged my head lots of times, it doesn’t feel too bad—Kristoff, it’s okay." Soothing hands ran into his hair, stroked his cheek. "It was just a little bump."

He kissed her bruised shoulder, turned his head to kiss her palm. “I hurt you,” he whispered, sinking to his knees beside the bed. “I didn’t—I never—” The fear of his dream, the sight of her wince of pain, everything was churning in a nightmare of agonized guilt and panic in his stomach and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking.

"Shh, it was an accident. Accidents happen. I’m fine." Anna pulled him to her. Their position was oddly reversed, her position on the bed making her the taller one for once, and her arms wrapped around his bare shoulders, drawing his head in to rest against her chest. Her knees bumped his ribs and she shifted so that her whole body was curled around him, cradling him. Kristoff could hear the gentle thump of her heartbeat. He relaxed slowly, his own arms folding around her waist, holding on to her.

"I’m sorry," he whispered again, his lips brushing the soft skin over her collarbone.

"It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay." Anna kissed the top of his head. "You should probably go back to bed. You’re going up the mountain tomorrow, right?" He nodded against her, but didn’t move, reluctant to let go. She kissed his hair again and then leaned back, breaking his hold gently. When he looked up at her she leaned back down to kiss him lightly.

"Stay," he asked hoarsely. "Just for a little while." She bit her lip, then nodded.

"Until you go to sleep, I’ll stay."

Anna waited until he had lain down, and she had fussily tucked the covers around him, before she curled up with her head on his shoulder. He tugged his arms out of the blankets so that he could wrap them carefully around her.

"I love you," he murmured, and fell into a sleep that was warm and soft, without wolves.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna - Christmas

Kristoff stood back to look at the tree, head tilted. He didn’t quite understand what the point was, but Anna had explained that it was an important part of Christmas, so okay—it was important. If Anna said that spending three hours combing the woods for the perfect evergreen and then cutting it down and dragging it back to the castle so that it could stand in a pot of water indoors was important, then it didn’t matter whether Kristoff understood. He would do it anyway, no matter how weird it was.

He was finding himself doing a lot of weird things for Anna. Just yesterday he had played hide-and-seek, and a grown man playing hide-and-seek had to be weird. He was living in a castle, and that was definitely weird. On more than one occasion he had kissed a woman. A princess, even. And she’d kissed him back, and he’d felt like his chest was too small for his heart and like his stomach was melting down to the soles of his boots. That was the weirdest thing of all.

Weird, he had decided, was good.

"So…now what?" he asked.

Anna looked up from one of the many boxes spread out on the sitting room carpet. “Now we decorate it, of course!”

"Again?" There was already another tree, a much larger one, down in the great hall. He’d watched Anna gleefully supervise the servants as they draped it with garlands and hung it with glittering silver and glass baubles. There were hundreds of candles carefully hung on the branches (and two footman stationed nearby with a bucket of sand at all times, Kai had promised. Kristoff hadn’t wanted to ruin Anna’s exuberant mood but the sight of all those candles had terrified him. He’d gone to the butler with a white face and hadn’t even needed to open his mouth before Kai was reassuring him. They hadn’t had a tree catch fire in years. Not since that one incident when Princess Anna was eleven, anyway).

"Yes! This is  _our_  tree. That one downstairs is the castle tree. This one is the family tree.” She held up a rather mangled doll made of paper, its bent wings made of gold wire. “See, I made this when I was little! And this one is an ornament that Papa painted when he was a little boy—” The wooden ball she held up was decorated with splodgy scene that might have been a dog pulling a sled. Or perhaps it was a troll being chased by a fire demon. Or was it a bear and a yellow fish?

"Oh," Kristoff said.

"I know, it’s ugly, isn’t it?" Anna smiled at it lovingly. "That’s why it goes on this tree. It won’t be perfect and elegant like the one downstairs, but that doesn’t matter. There’s the castle Christmas, which is public, and then there’s the family Christmas. It’s just for us. Family Christmas is best."

"Oh," Kristoff said again, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Well, I should…I’ll go and…do some things, and leave you to it. I’ll see you at dinner?"

Anna blinked. “What? You—I thought you would want to help. I mean, help us decorate the tree. I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, I just…”

He felt himself blushing and shuffled awkwardly. “It’s not that I don’t want…I just—if it’s for family, I shouldn’t—”

"But you are family!" Anna caught his arm tightly. "And you said you couldn’t remember celebrating Christmas, so I thought…maybe you could make some new memories now. With us."

Kristoff looked down into her eyes and felt that tightness in his chest. “I just…are you sure it’s okay?” He glanced over her head at Elsa, who was unwrapping a lopsided snowflake made of sticks and red thread. The queen still made him feel…not unwelcome, but definitely awkward. It was easy to forget that Anna was a princess, but very, very hard to forget that Elsa was a queen. Sometimes he  _would_  forget, and then there would be something in the set of her shoulders, the lift of her chin, the tone of her voice, and suddenly he wanted to straighten up, comb his hair, and polish his shoes all at once. And it wasn’t even possible to polish boots made of fur. He just felt the urge to try.

Then there was the fact that sometimes when he was picking Anna up to take her out in the sled or for a walk and Elsa would wave them off, Kristoff would glance back and catch a wistful look on the queen’s face. He worried guiltily about whether Elsa was lonely without her sister. It seemed ridiculous, when he knew from Anna’s stories that the queen was kept busy most of the day, to think that she couldn’t spare the princess for a few hours. And Elsa was always polite to him, and even arranged the castle schedule so that Anna was free to be with him in between harvests. But he still worried, and he worried about how the queen—how Anna’s  _sister_ , really—felt about him encroaching on this special, private family territory. Being an outsider was a hard habit to break.

Elsa smiled at him. “Please say, Kristoff. It would be nice to have ornaments on the top half of the tree for once.”

Kristoff blinked. Then he laughed. Anna made a face at her sister.

"There are always ornaments on the top half! I know how to stand on a chair, thank you very much. I’ve only knocked over the tree once." She paused, thinking. "Twice. Anyway once the tree is lying on the ground you can decorate it even more easily!"

"Let’s try and keep it standing just the same," Elsa suggested.

Decorating the tree took a long time. Every ornament had a story, and as Anna told them all it was as if Kristoff was looking through a window at her life, looking back in time at a little girl with a skinned knee who was determined to be the one to place the star on top of the tree. The memories seemed almost as tangible as the ornaments that crowded the branches. He felt a rush of affection for Anna, not just the beautiful woman smiling up at him, but for the child she had been, and for every part of her in between. It made him feel weird. It made him want to gather her and all of her history up in his arms, against his heart. 

She held up the elegant gold topper.

"Considering how that story ended," Anna said wryly, "maybe you should be the one to put it on the tree."

Kristoff hesitated, then he caught her around the waist, hoisting her up. “How about we both do it?” he suggested.

He watched as Anna carefully set the star in place. The branch was a little too weak and slanted at a drunken angle, but the star still glittered in the light from the fireplace, and the candles that Elsa was lighting—not  _on_  the tree, thank goodness, but in mirrored sconces on the walls.  

"How does it look?" Anna asked.

"Perfect," he said. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

"Well?" Anna asked, twirling in the center of the room. "What do you think?"

Kristoff set down his bag by the door and looked around. The room was large—he’d thought that the room he’d been given before was huge, but this one was twice the size. It was airy, flooded with light from a tall window, and lush carpets warmed the floors. Plush, overstuffed chairs stood by the fireplace. There was large dressing room visible through one open door, and through it, as Anna was breathlessly explaining, a private bathroom, with “a big bathtub, really big, large enough for you! I mean, I didn’t measure, but I’m pretty sure—and there’s this invention for keeping towels warm! And there’s another fireplace in there, too, a little one. And there’s closets on both sides of the dressing room, look they’re huge! I can fit inside! Okay so I could probably fit inside most closets, but look how much room there is around me! I could do a cartwheel in here! Oops—!”

There was a crash.

"Anna!"

"I’m fine! Closets are not for cartwheels, but I’m fine." She fought her way out of the skirts that had flipped over her head and grinned at him. Kristoff sat back on his heels beside her and grinned back, feeling himself relax a little. The room— _rooms_ , really—might be overwhelmingly grand, but also contained a grinning, disheveled Anna.

"So…what  _do_  you think?” she asked again, sitting up and brushing at her dress.

"Of the closet?"

"Of the whole room." She gestured around vaguely. "Do you like it?"

"I…it’s big."

"Is that bad?"

"No! No, I just…" He shrugged awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his head. After a second he got up and helped Anna to her feet. She tugged at his hand to pull him back to the center of the room.

"The walls are red," she said. "I know you like red, so—and the window faces the mountain, so you can see it all the time. And it’s far away from all the bustle, so if you want to get away from people—"

"I like it," he said hastily. Anna bit her lip and he laid his hand on the small of her back lightly. "I do like it."

He looked around again, and his pack by the door caught his eye. It was drab and grey and purely practical, unlike anything else in eyeshot, and although it held almost everything he owned it looked very small in the big room. Well, okay, so it held most of the things that he  _thought_  of as _his_. There was a chest of clothes that someone had already brought up, but he still thought of those as…well, as the castle’s clothes. Even though they had been made specifically for him, ‘the castle’, in a vague way, seemed to own them. Kristoff hadn’t paid for them, hadn’t earned them, they couldn’t be  _his_.

That was the sticking point, really. He hadn’t earned a chest full of clothes, or the new boots, or this luxurious room ( _rooms_ , good grief), so they couldn’t possibly be his. And he hadn’t earned, couldn’t possibly earn, couldn’t conceivably  _deserve_  the vibrant woman beside him. Surely there was no way that she could ever be his.

Anna squeaked with surprise as he pulled her into his arms suddenly, hugging her tight. Her arms got trapped against his chest, but when she realized he wasn’t about to let go she wormed them free and wrapped them around his waist, hugging back with all her considerable, surprising strength. Kristoff bent his head to kiss her hair.

"I can’t wait for it to be tomorrow," she mumbled into his shirt. "I can’t wait to be married to you."

"Me too." He rested his cheek against her head. "I guess it’s still hard to believe, sometimes. It still doesn’t always feel real."

"It’d better feel real tomorrow." She poked his side gently and his arms tightened around her. "It is a big room," Anna said thoughtfully. "Lonely."

"Yeah."

"But just for one night." She rested her chin on his chest so that she could look up at him, smiling. "After tomorrow…." She trailed off, but her eyes flickered over to the bed. The very large, luxurious looking bed. Kristoff already knew that he was going to feel very lonely in it that night. But the next night…and every night after…

A new beginning, for both of them.

A new room.  _Rooms_. Rooms that would, he desperately hoped, very often contain a grinning (and, for preference, disheveled) Anna.

"Tomorrow," he said, the word a promise of things to come. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-film, Kristanna

A hand snagged the Ice Master’s sleeve and pulled him behind a pillar. “Wha—”

"Shh!" Anna put a finger to her lips. "We have to be quiet!"

"Oh." Kristoff blinked down at her. "Hi?"

"Oh, hi! I’m glad you’re back!" Anna paused, looking up at him expectantly. It took him a second to catch on, and she had to pull on his sweater to get him to bend down so that she could kiss his cheek clumsily. It had only been a week since their first kiss, and neither of them quite knew how to be half of a courting couple. If that was even what they were. Anna had ideas about what courting was, but they involved a lot of things like moonlit balconies and noble stallions and plate armor, fluttering handkerchiefs and roses held in the teeth. Ridiculous things.

But kissing, kissing seemed like a solid idea. Except that after Anna had had her first kiss on the docks, in full view of the entire town, there had been a quiet conversation with Gerda and now Anna wasn’t sure how much kissing was allowed. But cheeks seemed safe. Kristoff turned his head to return the kiss, his lips brushing over her cheekbone.

"Welcome home," Anna said softly. "Did you have a good day?"

He leaned back to smile at her. “I guess. But I—” Anna’s palm over his mouth cut off the words as a patter of footsteps and the rustling of skirts went by in the hall.

"Sorry," she whispered, tilting her head to listen.

"Anna," he mumbled into her hand. She took it away. "Anna, what are we doing here?"

"What? Oh! Hiding!"

He eyed her suspiciously, his eyes going to the arm that had stayed behind her back. “Why are we hiding?”

Anna grinned up at him. “I  _might_  have stolen something from the pantry,” she said. “Come on, while the coast is clear!” She towed him after her across the hall, poking her head around a corner and then dashing down a passage.

"Anna, what—"

"Shh!" Shoving Kristoff through a doorway, Anna checked the hall one last time and pulled the door shut. "We should be safe in here."

'Here' was a small room, bare of furniture and rather dusty. It had probably been a little sitting room, but the reduced staff had meant that large parts of the castle had been unused for years. Just at the moment it was convenient, although Anna made a mental note to talk to Elsa about what to do with all the empty rooms. Later. Much later. The room's wide window had a deep sill, and Anna fished out a handkerchief to dust it with before sitting down.

"Well?" she said, looking up at Kristoff. He sat gingerly beside her.

"What exactly did you steal, feistypants?"

"This!" Anna set the box on her knee and lifted the lid with a flourish. "It’s imported! They sent a bunch for Elsa’s coronation, and Gerda decided to  _save_  it for  _special occasions_ , but—” She noticed the blank expression on Kristoff’s face. “Why aren’t you excited?”

"Maybe I would be if I had any idea what it was?" he suggested. "Seriously, what exactly did you steal?"

"It’s…it’s chocolate." Anna’s eyes widened. "Oh,  _Kristoff_ , do you mean you’ve never had chocolate before?”

"I don’t think so." He looked at the brown shapes dubiously. "They don’t really look like things that you eat."

"Oh, they’re amazing! Take one, take one!" She held out the box urgently and rattled it. Kristoff cautiously picked up a chocolate. He sniffed it. "You just pop it in your mouth," Anna told him. "Stuff it in there."

"But—ah, what’s wrong with it? Anna, I think something’s wrong, it’s sticking to me—" In the bright sunlight from the window, the chocolate had started to melt, smearing his fingers. Kristoff stared at it with a mixture of horror and disgust.

Anna started to laugh. “It’s just melting, it does that when it gets warm! Kind of like ice, I guess.” She plucked the chocolate from his hand and put it in her mouth, letting it spread over her tongue. “Mmm. See? Good. Very good.”

"But it’s still on my hand!"

"Well—no, I used my handkerchief, now it’s all dusty. Just lick it off."

"I thought licking fingers was one of the things people don’t do in castles."

"Well, not at  _dinner_. But we’re in private, it’s okay. Here, you might as well take another one, it’s so warm in here that they’re all soft, your fingers would just get dirty again.”

Kristoff picked up a chocolate, took a breath, and shoved it into his mouth. His eyes widened.

"Do you like it?" Anna asked anxiously.

"It’s…" He swallowed hastily. "Wow, that’s…really something."

"Isn’t it great?"

"It’s…sweet." Unthinkingly, Kristoff touched his fingers thoughtfully to his chin.

Anna burst out laughter. “You’re giving yourself the most ridiculous goatee, hang on—no, I still don’t have a second handkerchief. Um…here—”  She wiped at the smear with her thumb, making him grimace and wrinkle his nose like a child. “Hold still,” Anna commanded, lifting her other hand to hold his jaw still while she wiped at the corner of his mouth. He froze as her fingertips grazed over his lips, and Anna looked up into brown eyes that were suddenly intent on her face. A warm hand curled around hers, holding it in place as Kristoff kissed her fingers lightly. He let go so that he could reach out to touch her cheek, and Anna’s hand dropped to his shoulder, leaving a streak of chocolate on his collar. Neither of them noticed as he leaned closer to her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, then lifting again to meet hers, questioning and hesitant.

"Anna—"

She leaned up the last few inches, her lips just brushing over his. He returned the kiss slowly, nervously, but when Anna made a soft sound of approval he leaned closer, kissing her deeper, his other hand curving around her waist to slide up her back. After a long moment they broke apart, blushing. Anna licked her lips. “You taste sweet,” she murmured.

His thumb stroked her cheek. “I was going to say the same about you.”

"It’s the chocolate."

"Mm." Kristoff kissed the corner of her mouth. "Sweeter." Anna giggled and he looked away, blushing awkwardly until she pulled him back down to her, resting her forehead against his.

"Thank you," she said solemnly. He didn’t reply, but his palm on her back rubbed gently between her shoulder blades.

"Kristoff—" She was suddenly eager to hear his voice. "Kristoff, is this—what is this? With us, I mean. Are we…" Anna fumbled for a word. "Are we courting?" she hazarded.

He hesitated. “Am I even allowed to court you? Really?”

"I think…yes."

"And courting couples are allowed to kiss?"

"I think…definitely yes."

"Then I hope we are," he said, and moved the box of chocolates away so that he could pull her close.


	21. Chapter 21

Anna stretched her arms over her head, sighing happily, surveying the desk with satisfaction. Her back was sore, her neck stiff, and she hadn’t had a piece of chocolate in nearly thirty minutes, but the messy heap of correspondence she’d start with had been sorted into neat piles and there was also a stack of replies that she’d written herself to the most urgent messages (and to the ones that were from children—those were her favorites).

"Kristoff, I’m finally—" She stopped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her ice harvester had kept his promise to keep her company while she worked, but at some point he’d fallen asleep. Anna’s lips curved in a soft smile as she watched him. Kristoff’s tall frame was stretched out on the sofa, his arms folded behind his head, pulling his shirt taut over his broad chest. His sash had come untied, and the hem of his shirt was riding up.

She knelt down by the couch, and after a moment she lifted a bold hand, fingertips tracing the edge of his waistband. Kristoff shifted, a low, rumbling snore escaping, and Anna bit down on her lip to stop a giggle. But he didn’t wake up, and her fingers nudged the shirt up, exposing more of his stomach. Anna was used to looking at Kristoff and seeing a mountain, a tower of strength that could lift her easily, tossing her in the air as if she weighed no more than a feather pillow. She’d felt the firmness of muscle in his arms when they wrapped around her. If someone had asked her to describe Kristoff—well, okay, the first words would be handsome, goofy, gorgeous, delicious—Anna blushed. But the word  _strong_  would definitely have come up, and if she’d had a couple of glasses of wine then maybe the words ‘firm’ and ‘hard’ might have popped out as well. She blushed even more, and turned her wandering eyes back to his stomach.

The skin was paler than his face, mostly untouched by sun. It looked…vulnerable. Even…soft. He wasn’t paunchy, he didn’t have a protruding gut like Kai, but there was definitely a layer of pudge. It was adorable. Anna stroked her hand over the warm skin, feeling it rise and fall with Kristoff’s deep, rumbling breaths. She circled his belly button with a fingertip, then lightly traced the line of golden hair that ran down his belly and disappeared so tantalizingly beneath the modest concealment of his trousers. Despite their many shared kisses and cuddles, despite their long conversations about their pasts (and occasionally about their future), there was something intensely intimate about seeing this innocuous span of flesh.

Anna leaned forward and lightly kissed the shallow curve of one hip, then hastily tugged the crumpled shirt back down, glancing up guiltily. A pair of amused brown eyes met her gaze and she felt her face flush pink as Kristoff grinned at her.

"Hi," she squeaked, then coughed, looking away. "Sorry that I took so long, did you have a good nap? I mean, you seemed really sound asleep, so I guess you were pretty tired, and I didn’t want to wake you I just…um…"

"You just wanted to ogle my stomach?"

"I wasn’t ogling! I was just…looking."

He chuckled. “You know,” he said, then stopped.

"What?" Anna looked back up at him, and saw redness spreading across his cheeks.

"Well, I just—I was going to say…if there’s any part of me that you…y’know. Want to ogle. You only have to ask."


	22. Chapter 22

Kristoff heard her coming before he saw her. He paused,hatchet resting on the cutting stump as he listened.

"Was it the second right? I think it was the second right. Yes, there’s the big tree split in two. And more mud! I thought I’d found all the mud, I guess I was wrong—oops! Yep, definitely found the mud. Next time I see someone getting mad, I’m going to tie them down. Why does everyone want to—ow!—run up the mountain when they get upset? Why can’t they go be upset in the attic? I know how to get to the attic without walking into a single thornbush, I could get to the attic with my eyes closed! Instead I’m always following people up mountains to apologize. This is it, this is my life now. Climbing mountains for the rest of my life, because I can’t keep my mouth shut and everyone I love has a thing about mountains. Is this even a path? I hope this is a path, because if I don’t—"

The princess rounded the last dense clump of trees and her monologue stopped abruptly as she stared. 

Kristoff stared back. He’d seen Anna in lots of different dresses, and he’d seen her at various degrees of dishevelment, from wind-tangled hair to a cocoa-splattered bodice, but he’d never seen her look quite like  _this_. The skirt of her summer dress was hiked up to her knees, hem thoroughly coated in mud. Mud was also clinging to her shoes, and her stockings, and it was smeared liberally on her arms. The braid that crowned her head was coming loose, flyaway tendrils forming a halo that had snagged several small leaves and a few thorny twigs. The rest of her hair was untwisting from the bun at her nape so that it could cling damply to the back of her neck. In short, Anna looked like she’d rolled down a hill, sat in a mud puddle, and climbed a tree or two, possibly falling then out of them for good measure. A streak of dirt obscured her freckles, and Anna was sweating— _no_ , he reminded himself, hearing Gerda’s prim voice correcting him in his head.  _She’s…glowing with perspiration. Which is like sweating, but for posh people._

She was also staring at him, wide-eyed, and belatedly Kristoff remembered that he was bare to the waist. He dropped the hatchet snatched up his tunic from the low branch where he’d draped it, hastily yanking it over his head.

"I, um—I wasn’t expecting you."

"No. Um. No, I guess not," Anna said. She blinked a couple of times, squeezed her eyes shut, then took a deep breath and smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I came to say that I’m sorry for making you mad, and I’m sorry for not leaving you alone when you asked me to, and I’m sorry for telling you that Sven agreed with me about everything, and I should have waited until you were ready to tell me what was wrong, and I’m really sorry that I made you put your shirt on and—I mean—I’m just sorry." The words came out all in one rush.

"It’s okay." Kristoff ran a hand through his sweaty hair, rubbing the back of his head and shrugging awkwardly. "I should have talked to you, I just…didn’t know how. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I’m sorry too, for yelling. And running off." He paused. "And for putting my shirt on," he added.

Anna grinned. “You look, um…you look good.”

"Thanks. I mean, you look—you look—" Kristoff’s natural honesty got the better of him. "Anna, you’re a mess." He winced, but she laughed.

"I feel  _disgusting_.” Anna glanced around the little clearing, taking in the small cabin with its neat woodpile and tiny garden, the little shed that served as a stable, the tarp-covered shape of Kristoff’s beloved sled (now outfitted with wheels, for the summer). “So…this is where you live? When you aren’t at hom—I mean, when you aren’t at the castle?”

"Yeah." He couldn’t keep the trepidation from his voice, and she bit her lip.

"I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He relaxed a little, smiling at her. “Do you…want to come in?”

"Yes! But…" Anna shifted her weight, and he saw her wrinkle her nose as her shoes squelched. "Do you have somewhere I could clean up a little first?"

Kristoff chuckled. “Yeah.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the 'Frozen Fever' short.

Kristoff staggered into the library, his feet scuffing wearily over the floor. Only Sven’s confidence had gotten them back down the mountain, and only muscle memory had gotten Kristoff through the routine of putting the sled away and making the reindeer comfortable in his stall. It had taken ages to herd all of the little snowmen up the mountain (‘snow bogies’, he had said, a little disgusted. 'Snowgies!’ Anna had cried, delighted, and hugged one). They had a tendency to scatter and wander off, disappearing until Olaf shouted 'PETER IS MISSING WE HAVE TO FIND PETER’. Kristoff hoped that he would never be called upon to search for a tiny snowman  _in snow_  ever again.

He could have stayed up on the mountain, in his cabin, just for the night. He  _should_  have stayed on the mountain—gotten some sleep, savored the peace and quiet, maybe even taken another day to harvest a load of ice, it wasn’t on his schedule but the palace ice house had been getting a little low, after all. But he hadn’t. He’d rushed back as soon as the last snowgie had been ferreted out of a corner of the sleigh and shoved through the ice palace door, because of….well, because. Because it had been Anna’s birthday and he’d wanted to see her, because they hadn’t had a chance to be alone since he’d open his big mouth and let his feelings fall out.

There was a fire in the library, despite the summer weather. There was always a fire in the library ('to keep the air dry’). Kristoff slumped into a chair, kicked his boots away, and stared into the flames. If he’d been thinking, he would have realized that it would be late by the time he got back. If he’d been thinking, he would have realized that it was better to stay on the mountain where he could keep himself busy than sit in a too-warm library with nothing to do but worry about what Anna thought of…of that thing that he’d said. If she’d even heard it, if she remembered it, if it had embarrassed her or surprised her or…Kristoff rubbed a hand over his face. He should go upstairs to his room, he knew. He hoped Anna was asleep by now. He could see her in the morning, he could say…he could say…

Kristoff woke up when a small hand touched his face, startling him out of a confused, anxious dream. He blinked and Anna’s face came into focus.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hi,” she said. Her fingers pressed against his forehead. “Are you okay? You feel warm.”

“Yeah.” He sat up, running hasty fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I just—it’s just kind of hot in here.” He was still wearing his snow gear, and his neck  _hurt_. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. How long have you been down here? Nobody told me you were back!”

Kristoff glanced over her as she perched on the arm of the chair and felt a smile tug at his lips. She was still wearing her birthday dress, but it was creased, and her hair was disheveled, wisping and curling around her face. He reached out to tuck a strand behind her ear. 

“I only got back an hour or so ago. I bet they didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” she said stoutly. “I was just having a little rest.”

“Mmhm. How’s Elsa?”

“I think she’ll be okay. The hardest part was convincing her to stay in bed. She slept for a while in the afternoon and then she thought she should get up and do some work. I almost had to sit on her! But Gerda gave her some calming tea that put her right to sleep. What about you? Did everything go okay?”

He made a face. “Have you ever tried to herd cats?” She shook her head. “Well, let’s just say it would probably be easier than herding snowgies. But Marshmallow looked happy to have the company, and it’s not like there isn’t plenty of room up there. I just hope they don’t wander off and scare people, or come back, because I know you think they’re cute but seriously they’re kind of scary and—”

Anna cut off of with a finger on his lips. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re really flushed—” She stood up and tugged at the shoulders of his tunic. “You must be burning up in this, take it off.”

“I’m fine—hey!” He batted away the hands that were tugging at his sash, feeling his cheeks burn even more. “I can undress myself, you know,” he mumbled, and then hastily pulled the tunic over his head to hide the blush. Kristoff stood, clearing his throat awkwardly as he straightened his sweater and tucked it into his trousers.

“Here—” Anna stood and picked up his sash, reaching around him to settle it in place. The movement brought her close, and it felt natural to rest his hand on her back as she tied it.

“I’m sorry your birthday party was a mess,” he said quietly.

“I’m not.” She leaned her palms on his chest and smiled up at him. “It was still perfect. Well—almost perfect. There was something I really wanted that I didn’t get.”

“You didn’t? What was it?

Anna laughed at the horror in his voice and tugged at his other arm until he lifted it to curve around her waist. "I wanted a birthday hug, silly.”

“Oh.  _Oh._  Well.”

“It’s still my birthday,” she pointed out, slipping her arms around his waist.

Her head tucked into his shoulder as Kristoff gently pressed her close, his arms folding snugly around her. The soft, contented sigh that brushed against his collar was the sweetest thing he’d ever felt, and he bent to kiss her temple. “Happy birthday,” he murmured.

“Kristoff?”

“Yeah?”

“During the party…during the birthday song thing…”

“Um, yeah?”

“Who wrote that, anyway?”

“Well, I guess that Elsa wrote most of the words—”

“Even your part?”

“Um. Well. I did kind of…uh, improvise. A bit.”

“Oh. So when you said—”

“Yeah. Yes. I mean. I wasn’t supposed to. I just…I didn’t meant it. I mean, I didn’t mean to. I—” He loosened his hold on her so that he could put a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m kind of tired, I didn’t mean—I don’t mean—gah, I just—”

Anna reached up to pull his hand down, and laid her palm against his jaw. “You’re all flushed again,” she pointed out, and bit her lip.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“To what?”

“I don’t know. Embarrass you. Put you on the spot.”

“Oh.  _Oh_. Oh, no, no that’s now how I felt at all! I didn’t mind.” She paused, her eyes dropping to his collar, her teeth worrying at her lip. “I wouldn’t mind if…if you wanted to say it again.”

Kristoff lifted his hands to cup her head gently. “I love you,” he said softly. “I—” He was interrupted by Anna rising up on her toes to kiss him hard on the mouth, muffling the words. He repeated them anyway, in between quick, urgent kisses as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he lifted her up off of her feet and he mumbled  _I love you_  against her hair and her soft freckled cheek and her sweet lips until she got her hand in a fistful of  _his_  hair and held him still so that she could kiss him until they ran out of air.

“There,” Anna said, leaning her head back to smile at him. She was breathing hard and her cheeks were flushed. “Now I’ve definitely had the perfect day.”


	24. Chapter 24

Anna squirmed and rolled over, kicking weakly. “Ng'way.”

There was a pause, and then the irritating sensation came again, brushing over her toes and the soles of her feet. She drew her legs under the protection of the blanket. “G’ _way_ ,” she mumbled plaintively.

A few minutes of peace. Then a stealthy hand slid under her down-filled shield. Anna shrieked and flailed, trying to get away from the mercilessly tickling fingers. She only succeeded in getting ever more tangled in her bedding until she was panting and half smothered.

“Are you awake?”

She kicked, but her husband caught her ankle in a strong hand. Anna could  _feel_  the fingers hovering, waiting to tickle, and she fought desperately to get free of the blanket and sheet.

“Awake! I’m awake!” Her struggles dislodged a pillow, and she chucked it at Kristoff’s head. “ _Okay_ , I’m  _awake_. Don’t you dare tickle me.”

He chuckled, kissing her instep before he let go of her foot. “You said to make sure that you were up in time for breakfast. You made me promise.”

Anna floundered up into a sitting position, primly tucking her feet under the hem of her nightdress. “I don’t remember giving you permission to tickle me.”

“Well, calling your name didn’t work. And shaking you didn’t work. I’m pretty sure that banging a gong wouldn’t have worked.”

She found another pillow and smacked him with it vigorously until he fell back against the mattress. “Tickling is  _cheating_ ,” she said, straddling his waist to keep him down.

“All’s fair,” he said, huffing to blow a goosefeather out of his bangs, “in love and war—”

“Is that so?” Anna said, and her fingers found their way under his shirt, making him yelp.

They were late to breakfast. 

Again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'Cuddling with you is better than I expected.'

“Cuddling with you is better than I expected.”

The words just popped out, and Kristoff knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. Anna stiffened and pulled away—not quite _all_ the way, but she pushed up on his chest so she could scowl down at him.

“What?”

“I don’t mean—I just mean that I wasn’t sure I would—”

He was making it worse. Much, much worse, and Anna was scooting farther away, to the other end of the sofa. Except their legs had been kind of tangled up and she tumbled off instead, one foot still trapped under his knee and the rest of her sprawled on the carpet.

“Anna! Are you okay? I’m sorry, I—”

“Did you expect it to be bad?” she interrupted, looking up at him. Her teeth were digging into her bottom lip and he could see that she was trying to be angry, but sadness was creeping into her eyes.

“No! I just—” He fumbled helplessly for a moment. Anna showed no signs of moving. She stayed on the floor, her feet on the sofa and her skirts twisted around her legs, and stared up at the ceiling. Under the pressure of her teeth her lower lip was going white. “Anna—”

Kristoff lowered himself to the carpet beside her, although he took a moment to kick his boots off before he swing his legs up onto the sofa cushion. His shoulder rested against hers, but she didn’t turn her head to look at him. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“I didn’t expect it to be bad. I didn’t know what to expect. I knew that I wanted to be near you all the time, and that I wanted to…to be close to you, but…I have a really touchy family, right? And sometimes it’s just so…overwhelming. It’s why I can’t stand to actually _live_ in the valley, because I need breaks from the constant touching and talking and singing and—”

“I understand,” she said softly. She blinked, turning her head away. “Elsa’s like that, she likes hugs and for us to sit near each other, but if we’re too close for too long she gets anxious. And she says I’m too hot, it gets uncomfortable. I’m not sure if that’s true or if she’s just trying to be nice, but—anyway, I understand. She didn’t want to tell me either. I’m sorry—”

“ _No_ , Anna—it’s not like that. I mean, not with you.” He leaned up on his elbow so that he could reach out to her, gently cupping her cheek. It was damp under his fingers and he winced. “I was afraid it might be, but it’s not. I don’t feel overwhelmed, not by you. By other people, yeah, by the servants and the crowds sometimes, but not _you_. When I’m just with you, I never feel crowded. And I never get tired of being touched. Even when we’ve been cuddling for hours.”

“No one touched me,” Anna murmured. Her eyes were closed, but she was leaning her head into his palm. “For so long—it’s not proper, for the servants to touch more than necessary, you know. And my parents were so busy, with the kingdom and the castle, and I guess with Elsa, now that I think about it, so…cuddling was only something that happened every once in a while. And then they died, and for years…for years nobody touched me. And I wanted it so badly, and—sometimes I feel like there’s this hole in me, and I want to fill it up as much as possible, to get all the touching I can in case everyone leaves me again. I’m sorry,” she added in a mumble, turning her head even more to hide her face against his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said roughly. “Anna—” Kristoff rolled onto his knees, scooping Anna up in his arms so that he could hold her in the cradle of his crossed legs, folding his body around her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 'You are ridiculously comfortable.'

“You are _ridiculously_ comfortable.” Anna flopped back, making Kristoff grunt as she settled against his stomach. But he didn’t object—instead he pulled one hand out from behind his head, and Anna sighed with contentment as his fingers brushed through her bangs. The grass was soft beneath them, still warm from the sun even though the last pink and orange streaks of late were fading into purple and inky blues. The two of them were stretched out on the hillside, two perpendicular lines in the twilight. With her head pillowed on Kristoff’s belly, Anna could feel him breathing while she stared up at the emerging stars. Anna sighed again, and reached up, finding her husband’s thigh and tucking her hand into the hollow of his knee, just to be touching him at one more point.

“Tell me again about the stars,” she asked. She’d studied the stars with her tutors, a little—she could find north, name some of the constellations and remember a few of the stories that went with them, but she had never known the stars the way Kristoff did. He knew different stars, with different stories.

As he spoke Anna stared up the sky, dazzling and endless above them. She had heard someone say once that the sky made them feel small, insignificant, but with Kristoff’s warmth under her, his low voice in her ears, Anna felt as though she was somehow expanding. As if something inside her was stretching out, joining with the sky and the stars and spreading out to fill the vast space from horizon to horizon and then spilling over. It seemed as if only her hand, still hooked under Kristoff’s bent leg, prevented her from floating away. She lifted her other hand, feeling for his chest, and his fingers curled around hers, grounding her and keeping her safe against him. He fell silent, his story ended, and the peaceful sounds of the night wrapped around them—a breeze rustling through the trees and stirring the hem of Anna’s skirt, the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures, and even farther off the distant murmur of the sea.

“I love you,” she blurted.

Kristoff’s stomach muscles tensed and shifted under her as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Good,” he said simply.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Apodyopis - The act of mentally undressing someone & Gymnophoria - The sensation of someone mentally undressing you

Kristoff watched her across the ballroom. Anna was a bright spot against the sea of people, her green skirts swirling around her in a froth of petticoats as her dance partner swung her through a turn. Her dress was green silk, so fine that he’d been afraid to touch her when they’d opened the ball with a dance—afraid he’d snag the delicate fabric with his rough hands. He’d muttered as much as they came down the stairs. Anna had paused, just before the last landing, and taken his hand in both of hers. A smile tugged at his lips, and Kristoff rubbed his fingertips together in reminiscence. She’d kissed each one, then pressed his palm to her bodice, over her heart. She reached up and tugged down on the back of his neck, pulling him close enough to kiss.

“I love your hands,” she said.

The evening was halfway over and Kristoff shrugged under his snug jacket, tugged at his cravat. He’d watched Anna get dressed that evening. The scene played in his mind, but in reverse—first there was the silk gown, fragile as flower petals. The bodice fastened with tiny hooks up the back, and he imagined undoing them, one by one. Then the skirt, with more hooks at the waist. To put it on Anna had pulled it over her head, but if he unfastened it he knew the weight of the embroidery would pull it down to puddle around her feet.

A voice pulled Kristoff out of his thoughts and he forced himself to exchange a few polite words with one of the ambassadors, but as soon as the man turned away Kristoff’s mind was full of his wife. Beneath the dress were the two petticoats, white and trimmed with lace. They would slip down too, easily, the endless ruffles like a cloud that she would need to step out of—or be lifted, with his hands around her waist, swinging her up until her toes were clear of all that fabric. Then the corset, stiff with whalebone and embroidered with dainty flowers. It was quick work to press open the hooks and toss it aside.

Anna had stopped dancing, and was chatting with a group of women near the doors, her back to him. Kristoff tugged at his cravat again. The ballroom was far, far too warm. He wanted out of these constricting clothes, almost as badly as he wanted Anna out of hers…just the shift left, and her lace-trimmed drawers. One easily tugged over her head, the other untied and allowed to slip down her legs…there would still be her stockings, of course. She’d put those on first, while she was still rosy and damp from her bath, and smelling so sweet…

Kristoff closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then his eyes flew open again as the back of his neck prickled. Someone was watching him. He looked around, scanning. Whoever was watching him was looking intently, their gaze burning against his skin as if he was naked—

Anna’s eyes were sparkling as they ran up his body and met his. She winked.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Brontide – the low rumbling of distant thunder

The first rumble in the distance woke Anna. She could sleep through almost anything—people calling her name, for instance, or knocking on her door, or playing a trumpet in her ear—but three sounds never failed to wake her. One: Someone offering her chocolate. Two: A baby crying. And three: Thunder.

Kristoff was still asleep beside her. The sounds of nature didn’t disturb him. Any human noise would do it, even a footstep in the hallway outside, but even if he was camping out in the open he wasn’t disturbed by thunder. He would sleep right through it, until he was actually being rained on. Anna envied him. The storm wasn’t even close—it was far out, over the water—but that didn’t stop her stomach from twisting a little every time the thunder rolled and growled in the distance.

She eased carefully out from the covers and padded across the room. The door to the nursery was slightly ajar, a lamp burning dimly under a shade. By its warm yellow light Anna tiptoed through the mess of little wooden animals on the rug, and peeped over the edge of the crib. The tousled little head of golden hair stirred as the baby wriggled. She was such a squirmy little thing, even in her sleep, and no swaddling would hold her. And she invariably rolled herself onto her stomach, despite all the nurse’s efforts. Anna wondered if she had been such a stubborn infant. She wondered if she’d been so pink and rosy when she was born, if she’d had so little hair at first and then so much within two months, if she’d smiled so easily and cried so loudly. She wished she had someone that she could ask.

Anna laid her hand lightly on her daughter’s back, feeling the soft breathing and the warmth of the chubby little body.

“Bring her back to bed with us.” Kristoff stood in the doorway, his head as tousled and golden as his daughter’s.

Anna bit her lip. “Are you sure? She’s sleeping now, but she might wake up, and the nurse—” The nurse frowned on babies sleeping anywhere but in their cribs. It was bad enough that Anna had insisted on using her dressing room for the baby, instead of the nursery on the floor above. Kristoff shrugged. In his experience babies slept with their parents as a matter of course, for security and warmth. The nurse considered this barbaric. Kristoff considered the nurse ridiculous. Anna, who had never held a human baby until she had her own, didn’t know what to do. It was another thing she would have liked to ask. Another reason to miss her own mother. Kristoff crossed the room—swearing softly as he found a carved bear with his foot—and kissed Anna’s hair.

“It’ll be fine.”

The baby didn’t wake up, and as they settled back into the big bed she began to drool peacefully into the collar of Anna’s nightdress. Kristoff stretched out beside them, his heavy arm draping over her and curving around to cradle the sleeping infant, his hand big enough to span her tiny back. Anna shifted to cover his finger with her own, smiling as she felt his lips brush sleepily against her ear.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” she whispered. “The thunder—”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“You should go back to sleep.” She wouldn’t be able to sleep until the storm blew itself out, but with the weight of his body grounding her, the warmth of their daughter against her chest, Anna felt the dread and fear receding. There was a little sadness, but it was old grief, and bearable.

“I can stay awake,” he murmured.

“Thank you. But I’m okay.” Anna stroked her baby’s hair, smiling softly. “Go to sleep. Everything’s going to be okay.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Basorexia – An overwhelming desire to kiss.

Anna left her dressing room, yawning and fumbling to do up the last buttons on her snug winter nightdress, but something made her pause at the foot of the bed. In her opinion, the room was just barely warm enough—there had been a good fire all day, but it was banked now, and even through her slippers the floor was cold as the winter chill seeped in. For her, the bed was layered with heavy blankets and a heated brick tucked under the sheets.  And yet her husband was sprawled across the bed, on top of the heavy blankets. She leaned against the bedpost for a moment, studying him.

Kristoff’s torso was bare, his chest rising and falling with the soft, steady breaths of sleep. The candles were still burning and the light gilded the sloping lines of his muscular arms. His hands were tucked behind his head. Anna’s fingers itched to comb through the golden hair that lay tousled against the pillow. They also itched to trace the line of his jaw and feel the roughness of stubble against her fingertips. And to run her palm across his skin—she knew from experience that it would be warm, because he was always warm. Her eyes ran over the path she longed to follow with her hands, over his arms and broad shoulders, down his strong chest, to the intimate vulnerability of his stomach, where the firm muscles were softened. Anna bit her lip as she looked at his belly, at the trail of golden hair that ran down into the low waistband of his loose trousers, the crease of his hip just visible.

She didn’t just want to run her hands over him, but her lips too—and in particular she felt an overwhelming desire to press her lips to the fair skin just above his belly button. She’d kissed him there before, and she knew how sensitive he was in that special spot. His reactions were always extremely satisfying. Anna’s teeth dug into her lip as she glanced up at her husband’s face, peaceful and relaxed. It was turned a little away from the light and his handsome features were shadowed, but she could see the short lashes resting on his cheek and the soft shape of his lips. He’d fallen asleep waiting for her to come to bed. Could she really bear to wake him? Even to satisfy the compulsion burning in her chest?

Anna straightened up. She couldn’t fight it. She wouldn’t fight it. She stepped forward, bending over him, pressing her lips to his skin—warm, just as she’d imagined—and blew against his stomach with all her might.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAT IF Kristoff is not always great at picking up on Anna’s hints? he’s a straight-forward man, and sometimes when Anna tries to flirt it goes right over his beautiful blond head. 
> 
> Like the time Anna tripped and knocked over a lamp. Kristoff, rushing in when he heard the crash, asked if she was okay, was she hurt?

‘No, no, I’m fine, I–’ Anna stopped to stare at him. He’d just gotten out of the bath, and he was wearing his trousers but the rest of him was bare, and damp, and his hair was dripping on his shoulders and little drops of water were running down his shoulders and into the golden hair on his chest…

‘I did hurt myself,’ Anna said quickly. ‘Right here.’ She pointed to her shoulder. 

Kristoff squinted, running his fingertips over her skin. 'I don’t see a mark, it’s not red–does it hurt when I touch it?’

'Yes,’ she said firmly. 'Hey wait, where are you going?’

Kristoff stopped at the door. 'To get some ice, it will help with the pain, I’ll just–’

'No, come back! I think,’ Anna sat on the edge of the bed and squirmed a bit until the neckline of her nightgown slid down over her shoulder, 'I  _think_ that you could make it feel better without ice.’

'Huh?' 

Anna sighed. 'Kiss it?’ she suggested. 'That will make it better.’

His brow furrowed. 'Anna, this isn’t like a frozen heart, true love’s kiss isn’t going to heal every little bruise–’

'KRISTOFF. Kiss me. Here.’

'Are you sure? but if it hurt when I–’

’ _Kristoff_. I want you to kiss me right here. Right  _now_.’

He did, very softly and carefully. Anna’s throaty, purring sigh finally gave him a clue. 'Does that feel better?’

'Mmhm. But I think it also hurts…here.’ He kissed where she pointed. 'And here. And here…' 


	31. Chapter 31

Kristoff went softly into the bedroom. He’d left his boots in the dressing room, along with most of his grimy, sweat-stained clothes. Three weeks on the mountain. It had been a good harvest—the ice was perfect, and the weary ache in his body was a good ache, tempered with satisfaction over hard work done well.

But he was glad to be home.

There hadn’t been anyone to welcome him when he’d pulled into the courtyard, and the castle dark and silent, but Kristoff only smiled. After all it was well past midnight and he wasn’t expected until the morning. Things had gone so smoothly as the harvest wrapped up that he’d decided to take advantage of the fat, low-hanging moon to come home early, eager to surprise Anna when she woke up.

He had always loved his trade. He loved the mountain, the cold, the smooth perfection of ice. The rhythm of the work got into his blood and sang through his muscles. It filled him with peace. It gave him purpose. And it had been his life. But now his first love had given way to a new love, and even when he was eager to test his strength and discipline his body to his labor, he was just as eager to see the last block of ice in place on the sled, so that he could turn his face back toward home.

Sometimes home was the snug cabin that he’d built, in a secluded valley where the trees opened up and framed the night sky, each sparkling star a masterpiece. Sometimes, like tonight, home was a castle with long, dimly lit halls, a room with soft carpet and a canopied bed. Home was wherever Anna was waiting for him.

Kristoff stretched, yawning, and padded toward the bed. His head was cocked as he listened. If Anna was sleeping deeply enough to snore, then he could climb under the covers beside her and not worry about waking her. But If she wasn’t snoring, then he had decided that he wouldn’t risk disturbing her. He would stretch out on the sofa and wait for Anna to notice him in the morning. It was a comfortable sofa, chosen to accommodate his height, but Kristoff still felt a twinge of disappointment when he heard no snores. Well, the curtain was open, and moonlight was flooding the room. He wouldn’t wake her, but all day he’d been thinking of her lovely face, soft with sleep and peaceful. He’d just take a peek before he went to the sofa.

Except that the bed was empty. The coverlet had been turned back, but it still lay smooth and flat, the pillows an orderly regiment. This was not a bed that had held his wife.

A grumbling sound caught his ear. It didn’t come from the undisturbed bed. Kristoff turned, searching.

She was in the windowseat, bundled up in blankets, her head drooping. He crept closer. Now he could see a candlestick overflowing with wax where a candle had burned itself out, and a book sprawling abandoned on Anna’s lap beside her limp hand. Pale skin glowed in the moonlight, the constellation of her freckles rivaling the sky. He reached out to smooth a wayward tendril of hair from her face. Her cheek was cool from the window, and Kristoff warmed it in his palm, his thumb brushing tenderly over the soft curve. In her sleep Anna stirred, nuzzling into the warmth of his hand and sighing.

Kristoff’s lips twitched as another rasping snore escaped Anna’s parted lips. He closed the book and set it aside, then scooped up his wife, blankets and all. She mumbled and cuddled into his chest as he walked the few steps back to their bed. When she was settled against the pillows he crawled in after her, tucking the coverlet around them both before taking her back in his arms. He kissed her temple and closed his eyes, every part of him relaxing.

He was home.

* * *

Anna heard a knock at the door, and a polite voice informing her that it was morning, hot water was waiting in the dressing room, and breakfast would be served soon. She groaned. Waking up was so much harder without Kristoff. When he was home she didn’t need to ask for a morning summons, because Kristoff knew just how to coax her out of bed…

Kristoff!

Her head jerked up off her pillow and she beamed. Kristoff would be home today! She started to roll out of bed, only to encounter a barrier that grunted as her elbow jammed into it.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there! I was in a hurry to get up because Kristoff is coming—home—Kristoff!”

One brown eye cracked open and he smiled up at her. “G'morning.”

“Kristoff!”

He grunted again as her weight landed on his chest, but Anna was too busy kissing him to notice and he didn’t object. He just wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled happily between kisses. “Welcome home.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Anna, the ball is still going on, people will notice that we’re gone.”

“It’s fine, I told Elsa I had a headache! A terrible headache.”

“Do you?”

“Oh yes. A terrible headache. It aches  _so_ badly–”

“Really.”

“ _Yes_ , stop being so skeptical and take your shirt off.”

“And what about me?”

“Oh, you have a headache too.”

“Do I?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Hm.”

“Is it as bad as yours?”

“What?”

“My headache.”

“Absolutely. It's  _throbbing_ , and–Kristoff, don’t laugh at me when I’m being seductive!”

“I’m not!”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m just grimacing, because of my terrible headache.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 'one time too many'

“That is it! That was one time too many!”

“But Elsa–”

“ _No buts,_ Anna! I am the queen, and I never want to see you doing _that_ in my study  _ever_  again. And you, Kristoff–for heaven’s sake, put your shirt back on!”

Kristoff sheepishly pulled his tunic over his head as the queen swept out of the room, and Anna sulkily gathered up the various mysterious tools she’d been using. She hadn’t even gotten to the best part!

“It’s not fair,” Anna muttered. “This room gets the best light! How am I going to get your muscles right if I have to work in the dark?”

“You’ll figure something out,” Kristoff said encouragingly, and helped her carry the sculpting supplies back upstairs. 


	34. Chapter 34

“What’s making my husband frown this time?”

Anna’s voice pulled Kristoff out of his brown study, and he looked up to find her leaning her hip on the edge of his desk. 

“You should be resting,” he said, as he turned his chair so that he could wrap his arms around her waist. His wife draped her arms around his shoulders and bent her head a little to kiss his forehead. 

“I was resting, but I got bored. You’re getting all wrinkly between your eyebrows.”

“The queen asked me to help with the negotiations next week. The very important treaty negotiations.”

“I know, it’ll be boring, but–”

“It’s not that, it’s–” He tried, haltingly, to explain that being married to a princess didn’t magically make him a prince, and definitely didn’t mean he was suited to diplomatic meetings with real princes…

Anna let him ramble for a little while before she finally put her hand over his mouth. “Kristoff. Elsa doesn’t need a prince, or a genius diplomat–she needs someone she can trust to have her back. I can’t go, and you’re her only other family. She trusts you. You’ll do just fine.”

“But–”

“Kristoff,” Anna said firmly. “You are a hero of Arendelle, you are the only man who knows the secrets of the trolls, you’re the Royal Ice Master and Deliverer, you’re my wonderful husband, and–” She took his hands and pressed them to her belly, round and heavy under the folds of her dress. “And you’re going to be someone’s wonderful father soon. You can handle a few stuffed shirts.”

His palms rubbed gently against her, and he bent down to press a kiss on the curve of her stomach. Her fingers combed into his hair and he leaned his head against her shoulder as she brushed the shaggy locks into place, then mussed them again as she curled them around her fingers. Anna’s nails scratched gently against the nape of his neck and he sighed. 

“Okay.” Reluctantly he leaned back, breaking Anna’s hold, but only long enough to stand and pull her into his arms. “I love you,” he murmured.

Anna smiled into his chest. “I know.”


	35. Chapter 35

“I think she’s finally done!” Anna passed the limp baby to Kristoff and began hastily making herself decent, tucking her breast back into her corset and buttoning up her shift.  She glanced up at the sitting room clock as she fastened the hooks of her blouse and her fingers sped up. “There!”  Anna tickled her daughter’s chubby cheek, making the infant gurgle sleepily and drool a little more into the cloth covering her father’s shoulder.  “Little piglet, you nearly made mummy late again!”

“Anna, wait!” Kristoff’s arm caught her around the waist as she stood. 

“Kristoff! The ambassadors will be waiting, I _promised_  to be on time–”

“I know, but–” He laid the baby down on the sofa so that he could turn Anna around. “You’ve done your shirt up wrong, it’s crooked. Here–”

He deftly unfastened the row of hooks and did them up again properly, straightening Anna’s collar so that it lay smoothly. A loose strand of hair was brushing her cheek, and he tucked it behind her ear. “There. All tidy.”


End file.
